A Court of Graves and Flowers

CHAPTER FOUR

Tamlin's Manor was the last place that Rhys wanted to leave his sister, but it seemed to be their only option at the moment.

Ignoring a furious Tamlin marching behind them, Rhys walked into the familiar entrance with Callisto still tucked into his arms. The black-and-white checkered marble floors beneath his shoes were cracked, and there was no light inside the house. Magic flowed from Rhys, providing soft illumination as he climbed the staircase which led to the bedrooms on the upper floors.

He made sure to steer clear of Tamlin's room, Feyre's old chamber, and the rooms where he and his father had killed Tamlin's brothers. He eventually found a suitable suite that seemed to be in better condition than the others and stalked inside. Without really thinking about it, Rhys unleashed more of his power.

Pools of black midnight spread throughout the room, repairing everything they touched. The marble floors gleamed a pristine white. The bed and the rest of the furniture became free of the dust and leaves that had settled on them. Even the wilting flowers bloomed back to life.

As Rhys placed Callisto gently down on the pink bedspread, the chandelier above them flickered to life. The golden banisters on the bed glistened once more, and on the side table, Rhys conjured up a tall glass of water.

Callisto stared at her brother in awe. Even as children, Rhys had displayed some of the power that their father possessed. But now...

"You're the High Lord of the Night Court," she concluded, her voice sounding a bit firmer as she gulped down the water Rhys handed to her.

His purple eyes swam with sadness at her words, and he gave a stiff nod. "Yes. Father's gifts passed down to me after he died."

"How?" Callisto breathed, her hands tightening around the glass in her hands.

Rhys then turned those sharp eyes to Tamlin, who had followed them into the room. He didn't flinch as he met their glare. He had taken so much. So much.

"You forget to mention to your dear sister that I only killed him after he slaughtered my mother," Tamlin pointed out, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. He might've forgiven the death of his father—his father who had been siding with Hybern. Who'd been happy to keep humans enslaved. Who'd been responsible for the murder of Rhysand's mother and of Callisto. But his mother—his mother was innocent. Collateral damage. "And that the both of you killed my brothers before that."

A crease appeared between Callisto's eyebrows. Such death. And for what? Power? Territory? She couldn't comprehend it. Couldn't wrap her head around it.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you that day," Rhys snarled, his hands balling into fists.

"Nothing is stopping you now, Rhysand," Tamlin taunted.

Callisto saw the darkness swirling around her brother, felt that power stirring inside of him. She placed a hand on top of his, calming him before he finally gave Tamlin what he seemed to be craving.

"Until we figure out how to get Callisto out of here, I need you alive," Rhys breathed, his attention falling back to his sister.

She gave him a faint smile, and the expression on his face softened. A soft pop sounded in the room, and the place seemed to glow brighter. Rhys turned to the side of the bed to see Azriel returning with Helion by his side.

"This place needs better wards," Azriel murmured to no one in particular, his hazel eyes assessing the room and the surroundings outside. He went to stand by the window, glancing at the gardens down below, scanning the borders of the property and the trees beyond.